


The Final Crusade

by AshKetchup98



Series: Lost Worlds [5]
Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25636099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshKetchup98/pseuds/AshKetchup98
Summary: Commodore Owens has broken away from Spacefleet Command, all in a mission for revenge
Series: Lost Worlds [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715125
Kudos: 1





	The Final Crusade

The crowd of officers on the main deck of Station 19 cheered with a deafening roar. Commodore Owens stood over them on the walkway which looked over them. He had one fist in the air and his throat was slightly dry from the speech he had just given. The speech that would go down in history as the turning point, so the Commodore thought.

"Now, get to your ships, we have aliens to kill!" He barked and the crowd let out one last cheer before dispersing. Admiral Ross could be a coward if he liked, but Owens was different. He was younger, more determined and he would avenge the billions who had died in the fall of Earth.

He made his way to his own ship, the newly renamed S.F.S Revenge. It was a Defender class, armed with a particle accelerator cannon, and it was now the flagship of his grand fleet. Once he was in the captain's chair he looked on the viewscreen at the 45 other ships of various classes whose crews had joined him. And then he glanced to the far left, where the last civilian transport entered quantum speed, scurrying away to one of the interstellar stations still controlled by those who chose to run. 

It took all his restraint not to spit on the floor of his bridge. "Cowards!" He remarked with nothing but disdain. This was met with murmured agreements from his bridge crew. "Let's not waste time, Helmsman take us home!" Owens ordered.

"Yes, Commodore." The Revenge's helmsman replied, having to take a moment to call Owens by his new title. He set the course for what was Earth and engaged the quantum engines. Communications chatter confirmed the rest of the fleet had joined them.

Owens didn't sleep that night, while officers rotated shifts in the bridge he was the one constant. He thought about how he was risking everything with what he was doing. Each time a slither of doubt would enter his mind he thought about his wife, Jennifer. 

She had been on Earth when the aliens destroyed it. With her, they had also killed Owens' heart. In his mind there were two ways to go on without her, neither of them pretty. Either he could crawl into a corner and fade away a broken man, or he could avenge her. A tear formed in his eye but he suppressed it. There was a time for emotion and it was not yet, not until the things who had murdered his precious Jennifer were burning in the deepest pits of whatever passed for Hell in whatever twisted culture they had. Owens counted the minutes of the day long voyage to Earth, he grew restless but remained still, only speaking to get a crewman to fetch him coffee.

With each blink of his eyes he saw her, her long auburn hair, those green eyes he would happily lose himself in. He saw her smile, dance and laugh, all things he would never see again. Those creatures would pay, and that hour was almost at hand. Not long now, he told himself, not long until revenge.

"Commodore!" Owens' tactical officer called out. "There's a hole in our sensor net 300 miles big."

"That's our target." Owens snarled. "Tell all ships to convene on its location."

After an hour of slowly approaching at sub light speed, the Commodores Grand Fleet was face to face with their enemy. The monster of a ship bore down on them menacingly, like a shark among a school of fish. A voice entered Owens' head. "You should not have come back." It was deep, threatening without a hint of aggressive tone.

Owens spoke aloud. "You shouldn't have come here in the first place, alien scum!" After that there was silence, the bridge crew of the Revenge looked to their commander nervously, awaiting directon. Direction Owens gave. "All Defender classes, prepare the PACs!"

The bridge filled briefly with radio chatter, all the commanding officers of his fleet spoke almost in unison. "Yes Commodore."

"On my mark, we fire." Owens instructed, almost calmly. In his mind of one PAC could tear off a section of the behemoths hull, then it would not survive 20 of them. Nothing could, it just wasn't possible. A doubt crept into his mind, what if these aliens could achieve the impossible, what if they were just that powerful, they had destroyed the Earth easy enough. He shook his head, snuffing it out. This had to be done, either successfully or all involved would die in failure. He had stalled long enough. "Fire!" He practically screamed. 

The 20 Defenders in his fleet fired a volley of accelerated particles directly at the massive black vessel in front of them. At the same time the other 26 smaller craft, mostly Reflex classes, fired their entire payload of plasma bolts as covering fire. Each PAC found it's mark, and the singularities they created tore at the alien ships surface. They ripped off the dark plating of unknowable material, exposing the bright purple interior underneath in scar like patterns. The singularities destabilized and the damage was done. 

However the planet killer did not move, it did not even give the notion of a reaction as it was peppered with plasma fire, which it's absorbed harmlessly.

"Looks like we've stunned them." Owens grinned. But that was only short lived.

"No." The deep dark voice returned again, and it immediately crushed the Commodores spirit.

From the wounds inflicted on its surface, torrents of amythest energy launched itself impossibly fast. Their targets, the fleet. One by one in quick succession the fleet was being destroyed. In the bridge of the Revenge, the final cries of Owens' army could be head as their ships were shot out of space.

In the space of less than a minute, the human armies mood had turned from hope, victory and revenge, to horror, despair and death. Owens slumped back on his captain's chair, in complete shock at how fast his Grand Fleet had been wiped out. He had figured there would be casualties, but he did not expect his ship to be the only one left in the opening moments of the battle. 

It was like the aliens knew the Revenge was the command ship. And in some sadistic form of entertainment they wanted Owens to watch as the men and women who had followed him so eagerly into battle, so full of belief they could win, be killed rapidly and without mercy. Directly in front of the Revenge the alien ship built up one more burst of purple energy. Owens could only stare at it and think of Jennifer, how they would be together again, before the aliens finished the job and snuffed the lives of himself and his crew away.


End file.
